


The Snowdin Express

by hekmat



Series: Taxi Adventures [2]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Definitely Drunk Dance Fight In A Bar, Gen, Minor Character Death, Partial Angst, Sequel, Tags May Change, Trains, Violence, archive warnings may change, hopefully fluff, i post chapters when i can, not literally fire, polar express was fire critics just slept on it, probably, probably fluff, soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hekmat/pseuds/hekmat
Summary: A centuries-old train rumored to be sentient and theoretically infinite in length travels throughout the Multiverse, stopping at Genocide timelines to pick up survivors before they are brought back to zero again by the Fallen Angel.Totally, 100% based on the book and film adaptation "The Polar Express"
Relationships: Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Sans/Ketchup (Undertale)
Series: Taxi Adventures [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155890
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	1. All Aboard

Today was the day positions would switch for the Conductor. As any Sans would, he hated work, usually taking to drinking ketchup at the dining car just in front of the employee housing car.  
  
Of course, there are just some jobs you can’t dodge or leave from so easily.  
  
He put on his navy blue suit over his white T-shirt with a cyan tie, stashing a hip flask full of ketchup before putting on a navy blue cap, decorated with a sparkling gold medallion that showed the face of the Snowdin Express.  
  
After grabbing his watch and clipping his nametag on his breast pocket, he headed out the door towards the receiving cars to pick up passengers once again, passing through one of the Fellswap cars. This variant was one of his favorites, though, for a possibly bad reason.  
  
Another Sans walked up to him, wearing near-complete black armor with the symbol of the Deltarune on it, along with a red, straightened cape used as a scarf too, likely made out of the same red latex that was used for the skeleton’s gloves and long boots. The light in his scarred left eye socket was devoid of all light.  
  
Conductor grinned as the fellow skeleton walked up to him.  
  
“I’ve thought about everything I’ve done after all these years, and I realized that what I was doing was… wrong. It would only be right if I had cooked some farfalle for you.”  
  
He didn’t take the farfalle, noticing the purple tinted liquid hidden in the alfredo sauce. He still grinned as he talked.  
  
“cyanide this time, politico? i know you put a skele-ton of work into this, but we’re both skeletons, so i can practically see through you.”  
  
The old, middle-aged skeleton shrugged for a second before throwing away the farfalle in a nearby trashcan, chuckling the whole time.  
  
“Oh, come on, Conductor! Just one of my many traps to practice with for when I find another human...”  
  
The conductor shook his head as he walked by into the next car, holding out his watch to say that he was short on time.  
  
“i don’t wanna sound rude, politico, but this is why we put the displaced humans in separate coaches.”  
  
Politico sighed as if the weight of the world was perched on his old bones and walked back to his kitchen slowly as Conductor walked into the receiver car. On cue, the train slowed down and screeched to a stop on the magically appearing tracks. The automatic doors of the receiver car opened, and Conductor tried to peer out.  
  
The Conductor could only see an alternative Hotland in front of the LAB, devoid of all life. He breathed in using his imaginary lungs and yelled out.  
  
“ **_all aboard the snowdin express!”_ **  
  
The LAB doors squeaked as they slid open, revealing what seemed to be another version of Underswap Undyne, wearing lab clothes and equipped with a spear made out of blue energy, flickering constantly as the alternate version’s magic was drained from her hopelessness.  
  
The magic in her weapon lit up as they peered out, seeing the Snowdin Express. She punched herself trying to see if it was a mirage, but her face soon twisted into an expression of shock after she had realized that the train was truly there.  
  
The aquatic monster walked slowly towards the train, still clutching the spear tightly in their hands, close enough to talk to the Conductor. She still had a hard time believing the Conductor was real, rubbing her one eye repeatedly with one arm, a normal thing for the scientist roles in any genocide timeline left behind where the only thing that remained of the judge was their dust.  
  
“Who… are you?”  
  
The Conductor straightened himself out before speaking at the speed and tone of a trained auctioneer.  
  
“i’m the conductor. just 1 single gold coin to ride on the snowdin express, that’s right, a place where we’ll be there to help you every step of the way. whether it’s from losing a loved one, or watching entire civilizations die out as your hope is crushed, our passengers are here to say that you aren’t alone.”  
  
The energy spear in Undyne’s hands disappeared as they held a shaky arm to the Conductor, holding one golden coin. He took it with a gentle demeanor and stamped it with ink, showing the outline of the Snowdin Express. He stepped out of the way as Undyne hopped onto the doorway and into the receiver car.  
  
“we hope you enjoy your stay here. i’ll take you to your dedicated passenger car. don’t worry about the rest of the monsters in the evacuation shelter, we have advanced dimensional box technology to make it as spacious in your coach as possible, enough to fit an entire town in it!”  
  
Though she seemed unsure, after the Conductor bowed at her in a slight angle, she walked with him through what seemed to be around twenty cars before stopping in an empty, white space after entering the car.  
  
“this is the dimensional box i was talking about. as i said, enough to fit an entire town. we took some ideas from the omega timeline, if you know what that is. the delivery of food and material rations will begin today after the other monsters are settled in. it ends in five years, but we can extend it in case your community needs more time, though we might need extra employees to make up for added production. capiche?”  
  
Undyne nodded slowly as she processed the information, taking a seat in front of the door to the dimensional storage as she waited for the rest of the monsters to arrive. The Conductor slowed his speech down and resumed his normal, casual tone.  
  
“i won’t be handling the rest of the passengers, though. that’s the teleporter’s job. see ya later, undyne. stay undying.”  
  
Undyne gave him a confused look as he walked back to his home on Carriage 6. He passed through so many themes and colors it felt dizzying. Purple and white… black and purple… it kind of all blended together. He waved to Altertale Toriel, Storyshift Chara… just too many people to count and label.  
  
After locking the door behind him, he took a swig of ketchup from his hip flask and rubbed his hand on his forehead as the light in his eye sockets flickered.  
  
He was a skeleton, certainly, but the marrow in his bones ran cold hearing the stories of survivors, and seeing the dead, hopeless stares of the passengers. Like the many colors of each AU, they all blended together.  
  
As an ordinary unswapped, unshifted, and unshuffled Sans that was practically destined to be the Judge, watching troublemakers until they found the Judgement Hall… it sucked that he couldn’t comfort every survivor with the same understanding and feeling that a real judge would have.  
  
It hurt to watch the courageous become fearful, watching the other judges step back into a nearly unescapable shell after they lost their siblings, and yet have to watch as alternate versions of them run around, or watching the determined steadily lose their drive, their courage…  
  
It just didn’t sit quite right with him, but he kept waiting as the train whistle screeched and the wheels on the train begin to spin, traveling to another AU where he would find more survivors, more of the hopeless, and more of the fallen.  
  
Maybe the Snowdin Express would finally stop at an AU with a happy ending...  
  
...maybe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: CORE!Frisk and the Omega Timeline (OT) are owned/created by https://dokudoki.tumblr.com/
> 
> thanks for pointing that out, i wasn't exactly planning on adding them in but at least i have a precaution now in case somebody calls me a thief or something
> 
> underswap is a community au, the creator has since left the fandom
> 
> don't blame him honestly :troll:


	2. Checkup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor goes in for his weekly mental checkup with a doctor who is only certified in robotics and not psychology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *But nobody came.

After another work, the Conductor’s position switched with his co-worker yet again. He was finally on break, alone with the soft hum of the train’s wheels spinning over the tracks…  
  
Unfortunately, he was not on break from the dreaded mandatory mental checkups that were assigned to every employee who faced the survivors.  
  
After finishing his last shift, the Conductor opened the door to his room and threw his coat onto the couch, then sat down for a moment.  
  
He took another swig of ketchup from his hip flask, then set down his hat and walked into the restroom. After washing his face, he put on a white button-up shirt and black jeans, then headed out the door towards the Doctor’s medical car.  
  
In hindsight, he probably should have left the hip flask at home.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The Conductor opened the door to a bland room with nothing but the unpainted steel frame of the car, only covered by cabinets and counters, which were all likely filled with medicinal supplies used as painkillers for anybody unfortunate enough to land on one of the dusty, discolored green beds that were covered by decrepit old curtains with the same discoloration.  
  
The Doctor stepped into view from behind a green curtain, revealing herself to be a familiar yellow lizard, an alternate version of Alphys. She adjusted her glasses with a blank expression before motioning towards one of the office chairs in front of her desk.  
  
After the Conductor sat down, the Doctor pulled up a chair for herself and sat down as well. Before either of them could say anything, the lizard pulled the Conductor’s hip flask out of his breast pocket, and swung side-to-side softly by the cap. She frowned, and took out a wadded up ball of paper, scribbling in a number that the Conductor could only assume was the weight of his hip flask.  
  
“You’ve been drinking again, Conductor. I’m really sorry, but I’ve already told you several times to cut out the alcohol. This isn't good for your memory loss.”  
  
She tossed the flask into the air at the Conductor. He caught and slipped it into his breast pocket before shrugging, trying to steer away the conversation. Obviously, his efforts were in vain.  
  
“heh, guess i need to _ketchup_ on tastes, eh doc?”  
  
The doctor sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The stutter in her voice surfaced for a brief moment as she talked.  
  
“L-listen, Conductor. I've been receiving a ton of complaints lately, not about their lives but about your own mental health. Politico walked in here this morning, saying you didn't even recognize him until he said his nickname. You are forgetting. I've seen that photo.”  
  
The Conductor cut her off with a hollow stare. The lights in the Conductor’s eye sockets flickered out as he took another swig of ketchup right in front of the Doctor. The smell of alcohol and tomato juice filled the room while he spoke.  
  
“no, nah, nada. i’m a judge, doc. not in official name and title, sure. but i just… i feel like a cold asshole when i throw my spiel about the train to them. it feels… wrong. these are people who’ve lost their families, doc, and i’m advertising the express like it’s a god damn hotel auction. i can’t keep doing this forever. i think it's better if i forget, anyways.”  
  
The Doctor looked away for a moment, and smiled after an uncomfortable silence.  
  
“Alright, I'm putting my foot down. No more than one hip flask of ketchup per day, unless you want that amnesia coming back in full force.” She smiled briefly at the Conductor before turning away again. “We're the workforce of the Snowdin Express, infinity-strong. I better not see you sitting in one of these beds practically dead after drinking away all your memories, you idiot.” The Doctor flicked the Conductor's forehead.  
  
He seemed to mumble something in agreement before getting up to leave, closing the door behind him softly.  
  
The Doctor chuckled, followed by a sigh. She looked away in the distance outside a window, watching the screens of the Void go by after the Conductor had left, smiling before going back to work on one of her patients.  
  
“We’re just like the rest of ‘em, right Undyne…?”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The Conductor shut the door and slid down onto the floor in front of it, groaning loudly as he drank ketchup from his hip flask.  
  
He looked around his own room after he had gotten up. Dirty, pathetic, and reeking of overused japery.  
  
The Conductor rummaged through the pockets of his coat, throwing around socks, jokes written on flash cards, and more before pulling out a photo from the breast pocket of his coat.  
  
The picture showed 9 skeletons that seemed to have gathered together for a group photo after playing several games of some kind of sport, at least from what the Conductor could tell. The skeletons were… unique, to say the least. The Conductor could recognize about 8 of them and their AUs, except for one.  
  
He shook his head and grumbled, frustrated that he couldn’t remember anything about them, with nothing except a photo and the vague sense of familiarity when he looked at the photo.  
  
He turned over the photo. 9 signatures, likely from the skeletons on the photo were scribbled on in permanent marker. A crude drawing of a train was written in the corner. He could only wonder who he was before being the Conductor.  
  
After taking one more good look at the photo, he held his hip flask up in the air and chugged the rest of the ketchup inside before turning on the TV.  
  
Displayed on the screen was a flashy-looking version of Mettaton standing with one of the skeletons in the photo he had, wearing golden clothing that glittered under the spotlights, with horns that looked like they were smashed into the skeleton's skull because he didn't have glue. As if the horns weren't enough to say he was crazy, the lights in the skeleton's eye sockets were replaced with white swirls that glowed faintly in the whiteness of their dimension.  
  
The Conductor's confusion and frustration simply added up as he watched the show.  
  
Who were these people, and what was he like before the Snowdin Express...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obscure reference, but Checkup is based off of a scene between an alcoholic veteran and a doctor in an episode of ALDNOAH.Zero, an anime with giant mechs. Fitting for a character like Alphys or the Doctor.
> 
> By the way, for the readers of SMTS, thanks for being so accepting.
> 
> It's hard to believe I jumped up to around 10 hits already a day after posting.


	3. Dungeons & Drunks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor finds out his ketchup storage is empty and... plays D&D with a child while drunk on wine...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i debated on whether or not to make this a dance battle
> 
> friday night funkin music and all, but decided against that, which is why this chapter took a lotta time
> 
> i tried incorporating that in SMTS' last chapter
> 
> didn't turn out well, so i fast-forwarded a few years, added memories and a hidden taxi, boom, a chapter with quality that matched up with this
> 
> why am i doing better writing gut-punchers with depressing tones

The Conductor shut the door behind him after his mental examination and sat on the couch. He threw the Doctor’s note onto the table before unscrewing the cap on his hip flask. He took a sip… only to realize the container was empty. The Conductor groaned.   
  
“god damn it doc. leave me alone for once, will ya?”   
  
After screwing the cap back on, he got up and walked into the kitchen. The furniture was coated in a fine layer of dust from disuse. After checking several cabinets and cupboards, most of them containing boxes full of unpacked cooking utensils, he opened the fridge.   
  
Aside from the dozens of empty ketchup bottles and the emotionally damaged quiche, there was a bottle of wine, hidden at the back of the fridge with a note on it saying  “politico’s wine” .   
  
He shrugged, and pulled the bottle out.   
  
  
\---   
  
  
The 5 minutes that had passed since the Conductor had found the bottle of wine were all blurred and blended together. All he could remember was grabbing several sheets of paper and a D20 with the bottle of wine before running out towards the dining car.   
  
To Grillby and the several dozen patrons seated, it was certainly confusing to see a drunken skeleton dressed like an office worker at a party burst through the door, with a loosened tie around his neck while wearing a black and white business casual outfit. He clutched several sheets of paper and a D20 in one hand while holding a bottle of what was likely wine or some other kind of alcohol.   
  
After a moment, most of them could at least partially recognize that the skeleton was the Conductor as he drunkenly stumbled into a seat at an unoccupied table. He set down the D&D supplies in the middle of the table with the wine bottle.   
  
He set aside one sheet of paper and scribbled on it with a pen that he grabbed from his pocket, with a basic map of a basement that could barely pass for a dungeon, along with a character sheet on the back that made space for one to two people.   
  
After writing down the stats for his character (which was literally just himself with his on-the-job clothing), he put down the unimaginatively named class of “Conductor” on the last space.   
  
Just as he was about to roll the dice, somebody took the chair across from him. He looked up, and saw what seemed to be a child, with light gray skin, monochrome clothing, and a mostly blank expression. Without questioning who the kid was, he pulled away the wine bottle.   
  
“not for kids.”   
  
The child’s expression shifted into pity as they grabbed the character sheet and the ‘map’. The Conductor tried to grab the papers back, but faceplanted onto the table and gave up as the kid carefully redrew the dungeon’s map. They looked up after they were finished and glanced at the bottle.   
  
“Dungeons and Dragons, right?”   
  
The Conductor nodded as he brought the bottle up to his mouth and chugged the rest of the wine while the monochrome kid’s gears turned inside their head, trying to think of a

story to fit for the map. After a moment, they passed back his character sheet.   
  
“Okay, you’re in the dungeon’s first floor, looking for fuel to power the train. Several hostile skeletons come from behind a corner and take you by surprise. What now?”   
  
The Conductor raised a hand as he rested his chin on the table while the rest of the alcohol reached his head. The kid tilted their head.   
  
“are the… uh... skeletons good at talking?”   
  
The kid shook their head. The Conductor’s non-existent brows furrowed trying to think.   
  
“nah, i dun’ like them anymore. r-roll to beat up the skeletons.”   
  
The kid rolled the die. After a moment of it clattering onto the table, it faced up with the number 19. Both of them shrugged.   
  
“You successfully attacked the skeletons and dealt 30 damage to all of them with a golf club you found. Their bones crack and fall apart. You win, and equip the dropped leather chestplate along with several dusty old coins.”   
  
He shrugged and rolled the dice again to walk forward.   
  
“By the way, perhaps I should’ve mentioned this earlier, but my name is CORE!Frisk.”   
  
The Conductor nodded as they rolled a 5 and tripped on the floor.   
  
“weird name, but, uh… i’ll go with it i guess. i’m the conductor.”   
  
  
\---   
  
  
The Doctor was operating on a patient, trying to locate an ichor vein to inject green magic in. Just as she was about to insert the syringe, the loud and obnoxious sound of a notification from her computer rang out, blasting anime music.   
  
“Oh… what is it now?”   
  
She shut off the sound and checked her emails. Her inbox was flooded with reports about the Conductor, who she had just talked to half an hour ago. The disbelief and confusion in her expression only grew as she read them.   
  
“The Conductor… is playing Dungeons and Dragons while drunk with some weird kid. I can’t believe this guy.”   
  
The Doctor sighed as she went back to the operation, only to realize the syringe was haphazardly stabbed into the patient’s arm. The patient was groaning in pain.   
  
“Oops.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> core!frisk is created/owned by dokudoki at https://dokudoki.tumblr.com/core!frisk
> 
> \---
> 
> my dad suggested strip dungeons and dragons as a joke when i told him the general plot of the chapter
> 
> it was a really quick turnaround when i said core!frisk was a kid
> 
> i feel bad about it
> 
> my dad's so cool though, isn't he?


	4. Hammer Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor tries to search through the remains of a warzone in a failed post-pacifist timeline for survivors. He finds a strange character with a love for anarchy and explosions, who is oddly familiar to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying my hand at military-style writing again
> 
> let me know if this doesn't fit
> 
> sorry for the wait, enjoy

After the Conductor’s devastating hangover came and went, he went on-duty, switching with the other conductor. He threw on his navy blue coat, put on his hat, and walked out the door to wait for new passengers.   
  
The Doctor suddenly opened the door and walked into the receiver car that the Conductor was waiting in. She shoved a headphone set into his hands.   
  
“Put this on.”   
  
The Conductor’s eyebrow raised in confusion.   
  
“i dunno about this doc, what’s it for?”   
  
The Doctor sighed as she began to walk off.   
  
“Engine called for the first time in decades just to say we were getting close to a failed post-pacifist timeline. Get ready. Do your one-two punch, ready your magic… whatever.”    
  
She turned her head towards him as the door was closing.   
  
“Wait for instructions when we arrive. I’ll be listening.”   
  
He scratched the top of his skull and sighed before putting the headphones under his hat.   
  
“...i’m bone-tired.”   
  
  
\---   
  
  
The Snowdin Express screeched to a halt as sunshine poured through the windows. When the doors slid open automatically, the smell of blood flooded the room and hit the Conductor like a freight train. He leaned against the entrance and peered out the doors.   
  
It was not an understatement to say that the city around him was a warzone. Concrete and rebar was scattered around the train as tall buildings buckled then fell, crumbling into debris that smashed the unlucky into bloody puddles. He could hear screams and cries for help before the sources were silenced by bullets, obvious from the sharp repeated cracks of gunfire.   
  
Just as he was about to hop out, the sound of radio static made him leap back before being replaced by the Doctor’s voice.   
  
“Conductor, do you hear me?”   
  
He nodded and stepped off the train.   
  
“yup. a’ok on my side. it’s bad out here.”   
  
“Alright. Redirecting magic for reflective coating. The survivors are likely to be in tight groups out around the city in shelters or buildings. Find them.”   
  
As he ran into one of the few abandoned buildings that were still intact, he looked back from a window. The train seemed to erase itself from sight, hidden by optical illusions and magic.   
  
“Good luck, Conductor. Remember that I will still be listening in.”   
  
The echo of her voice faded into radio static, then to nothing.    
  
The Conductor climbed up the ladder to the roof of the building and looked around. The street he was on seemed to be relatively intact, aside from the blown-out windows and broken doors. Just from a glance, it was obvious that nobody was left in the area. He looked away with a grim expression, towards the cracks of gunfire that kept getting louder.   
  
He leaped from rooftop to rooftop with assistance from his telekinesis until he reached the last building on the street, closest to the city square. As he landed on the roof of the last building, he could hear distant shouts.   
  
He peeked out from above the rooftop and saw dozens of troops with balaclavas and high caliber rifles, ready to shoot at the dozens of civilians that were running into buildings to hide.   
  
In their way stood a short skeleton that clutched a sledgehammer in one hand, wearing a dark grey waistcoat over a dress shirt and trousers of the same color. The Conductor could tell the skeleton was a Sans like him despite the other being taller than him, though the skeleton had the horns of a ram and a black mask that seemed to have fused with his skull.   
  
The standoff between the two sides continued until a soldier who seemed to be higher ranked suddenly raised their hand in the air, followed by the rest of them raising their rifles.   
  
Just as suddenly, the skeleton snapped his fingers, and the rifles the soldiers held fell apart into a mess of scrap metal, as if he had already dismantled the same weapons they had thousands of times.   
  
While the soldiers looked down at the mess of parts that used to be their weapons, the skeleton’s mask flashed with a pulse of bright colors as the dozens of tiny lights inside lit up, making out the words “HAMMER TIME” as he dashed forward, sledgehammer in hand.   
  
The Conductor leaped down from the rooftop and ran towards the building where most of the survivors hid.    
  
He knocked on the door…   
  
...no answer.   
  
He walked in and saw nothing except for the fearful, grim, or hopeless expressions of dozens of people, monsters and humans alike. A few looked up at him, doubtful of what he could do for them.   
  
One of the survivor’s children was crying, likely for their other parent as the survivor comforted them. The Conductor took off his hat and showed it to the child. After a moment, they grabbed it and held it close. When they stopped crying, the rest of the survivors looked a little less hopeless than they did before.   
  
He walked back a few steps so everybody could hear him speak.   
  
“i know that everybody is shaken and scared right now, but trust me when i say this: there’s a train being used as a shelter on the outskirts of the city, and it’ll be moving in an hour or two. who’s with me to survive?”   
  
Most of the survivors huddled together and debated on whether or not to go. The others began to get up and walked with the Conductor towards the door. After a minute, the rest of them got up in a group.   
  
The Conductor’s left eye socket flashed with yellow and blue flames as he shortcutted the dozens of survivors into the receiver car.    
  
Without any time for the Doctor or anybody else to react, he teleported back to the building and peered out of a nearby window to see if the other skeleton was still there.   
  
The other skeleton had killed or knocked out dozens of soldiers, with the rest fleeing towards what seemed to be a temporary arsenal.    
  
The Conductor stared as the sledgehammer-wielding skeleton smashed a soldier’s skull, splattering bone fragments and blood everywhere before they rushed towards another one that fled, trying to escape fate as they were knocked down and bashed with the hammer’s handle, snapping bones one by one.   
  
When the battlefield went quiet except for the groans of dying soldiers and the footsteps of those who fled, the skeleton stared directly at the Conductor’s position before disappearing in plain sight.   
  
He tried looking around for them, until somebody tapped on his shoulder. He leaped back, nearly flying out of the window until they were grabbed with one hand by the same mask-wearing skeleton, holding a bloodied sledgehammer.   
  
The light from the skeleton’s mask flashed orange, showing what resembled a bomb with a lit fuse that slowly got smaller. He pointed towards the arsenal that the soldiers had ran to, and counted down after passing the Conductor a pair of binoculars   
  
Three...   
  
The soldiers that remained seemed relieved that they were finally in the safety of their own little territory, grabbing ammunition, weapons…   
  
Two…   
  
As they loaded the ammunition into their weapons and cycled them into chambers, somebody looked at the unlit lightbulb on the ceiling.   
  
One…   
  
They walked towards a lightswitch, and turned it on. Rather than a fuzzy yellow light, a bright flash of flames filled the room, melting through metal and flesh alike, a telltale sign of a thermite reaction.    
  
The Conductor realized what had happened while the other skeleton’s mask lit up with various flame-colored lights to portray an explosion and leaped up in joy as the charred bodies of soldiers hit the floor of the destroyed arsenal.   
  
The crazy skeleton who was cheering right next to him had filled a light fixture with a brick of thermite and water so that when somebody turned on the lights, the thermite would ignite from the electricity. When it hit the water, the brick cracked and then sent thermite flying outwards, engulfing the room’s occupants in fire.   
  
After everything was all said and done, all that was left was several piles of charred remains caused. A horrifying strategy to somebody like the Conductor, but a means to an end. He glanced back at the skeleton behind him, looking at the sledgehammer he was clutching in his hands.   
  
“mind if i call you sledge?”   
  
The anarchist nodded, and went back to cheering at his successful trap. The Conductor could recognize something familiar about them, and pulled out the photo, the only thing remaining from his past.   
  
In the picture, there was a skeleton with the horns of a ram while smoking a cigarette, wearing a gunmetal trenchcoat over the same outfit the skeleton before him was wearing, although Sledge’s vest was splattered with blood.   
  
As he teleported back to the receiver car with Sledge in tow, two questions bounced around in his mind.   
  
How long had it been since that photo was taken, and what happened to the rest of them…?   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sledge is based off of Whitty from FNF, and Wrench from Watchdogs 2
> 
> trying to go for a silent character
> 
> let me know if it didn't fit


	5. Roommates and Dusty Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor wakes up to find Sledge salvaging his kitchen and turning things into bombs. We get a look at the Conductor's abilities after a certain dusty skeleton tries to get on the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the quality of this chapter is a little low since i wrote about 2/3rds of it in one day
> 
> mind the quick change of feelings and contradictions
> 
> i'll correct it later

After the Conductor and his new anarchist ‘friend’ had gotten back to the train, Sledge was taken in for questioning and for a test to see if he could lead the survivors' in their new home. Unsurprisingly, they gave up a few minutes into it when they found out he had turned the ink _pen_ into an ink _bomb._ _  
__  
_Unexpectedly, during the questioning they found out Sledge was simply a multiverse traveler, who showed up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had never lived through genocide. Though, he did indeed stall long enough for the survivors to be safely evacuated, so he was assigned to permanent housing as a reward.  
  
Thus, Sledge now lived in the Conductor’s residence on Car 6 as a roommate. It was nice to have somebody to talk to, but the Conductor wasn’t exactly pleased when he kept finding Sledge dismantling the kitchen to make improvised explosives out of various stuff like propane tanks and butter knives on every day of the week.  
  
Today was the last straw against Sledge, however.  
  
The Conductor got up, put on his work clothes and walked into the kitchen before heading out to work, only to see Sledge taking apart the dishwasher. He sighed, and looked at Sledge with a stern expression.  
  
The anarchist skeleton turned to him. After a moment, the LEDs in his mask lighted up into the shape of a grey question mark. The Conductor cleared his throat.  
  
“listen man, i appreciate you living here and whatnot, but i really can’t afford having to buy more kitchen items when you keep turning them into god damn bombs. like, sure, i don’t use any of them, but maybe you could do things like lava cakes, i dunno. just don’t dismantle my things.”  
  
The lights in Sledge’s mask lit up into a green checkmark. He turned back to the bombs he had already crafted and began dismantling them. The Conductor smiled, and headed out the door.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Same old, same old…  
  
The survivors crowded into the receiver car, while the Conductor stood outside the train on the cracked and dry ground of Hotland, watching the lava flow beneath them. Among the general melancholic atmosphere, he could practically feel the betrayal oozing from some of the better informed.  
  
It might have only been a guess, but he assumed the train had stopped in a Dusttale universe. All the more reason to stand watch, even if it was a gut feeling.  
  
Sure, he could have called up the Engine to receive coordinates, but the amount of hoops he had to leap through to get an answer was too tedious to do.  
  
The Conductor never really felt any concern about where they went, or how they traveled. Considering nobody had even seen any of the Engine’s crew for at least decades, he didn’t see the need to ask.  
  
His job was to bring people to safety, and that was that.  
  
Just as the last passenger stepped onto the train, he had a bad feeling. The Conductor looked up from where he was standing, and saw another Sans like him, concealed by a cloud of dust that followed him as he walked towards the train.  
  
The only thing that the Conductor could make out from the silhouette was two red glowing lights. He could barely see it, but the left glowed a pale blue.  
  
The Conductor walked forward to meet his dusty doppelganger as the dust cloud finally cleared up, revealing a Sans with his hood pulled up, and his clothes caked with dust. He waved away the dust particles in the air as he spoke.  
  
“heya. sorry, but i can’t let you on this train right here, even if you are feeling a bit… blue.”  
  
The other Sans grinned more as the Conductor hesitated to think of a pun. The red lights in his eye sockets glowed brighter as magic gathered around the two. The Conductor felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead.  
  
“i-uh… you don’t seem much for conversation, do you? feeling a bit bonely? don’t worry, that’d rib anyone apart at the seams.”  
  
He watched the other skeleton twitch as they spoke, obviously not in the mood for puns.  
  
“i need to do this.”  
  
The Conductor narrowed his eyes as the other Sans dashed forward with a knife in his left hand. He threw him back behind a wall of shining cyan bones and pulled out a hidden signal lamp. After quickly flashing several letters, the doors shut and the train began to erase itself from sight.  
  
He cleared his throat as the other Sans slashed at the bones and snapped them in half.  
  
“you wanted a fight, you got it.”  
  
With a snap of his fingers, the Conductor’s soul flashed dark blue as he began to float in the air. The other Sans stared at him with a determined expression.  
  
“you know, today’s running well. on time and everything, not that i've used my watch to check though, haha.”  
  
He looked around at his surroundings before looking back at the other Sans with a grim expression.  
  
“i’d love to have you on the train, but to get your ticket…”  
  
The lights in the Conductor’s eyes went dark before being replaced by two dark grey flames that flowed across the sides of his head. His dusty doppelganger summoned several blasters while taking a step back as he raised his hand into the air.  
  
“ _you’ll have to pay for it.”_  
  
The Conductor snapped his fingers as his enemy’s blasters fired, and summoned four blasters of his own that circled his doppelganger before firing, while the Conductor flew out of the way of the beams.  
  
He chuckled after seeing the other version of him walk out unscathed, and shrugged as they gave him a death glare.  
  
“what? too dramatic for your tastes? eh, your problem.” He grinned smugly. “certainly better than you though, huh dusty?”  
  
Dusty scoffed at his new nickname and rushed forward, muttering and talking to himself while slashing through thrown up bones and blasters. The Conductor looked away as he threw them back behind another wall of blue bones.  
  
“you know, it’s not everyday that i see something like this. what pushed you to do this? did genocide make you bad to the bone, or is it something else…?”  
  
Dusty snapped his fingers with a desperate expression as the sound of a train whistle started up, summoning a moving array of blasters that aimed themselves at the Conductor in the air.  
  
“i could ask the same of you, copycat. i’m doing this for the good of everybody, okay? i-i know this doesn’t look like the right path, but i’m sure! i’m sure that it’ll work!”  
  
The Conductor grimaced as he threw the blasters at Dusty, caving in the bone wall he was slashing through.  
  
“let me give you some advice, dusty.”  
  
Dusty turned to him as he walked out of the cloud of dust and debris, without looking back at the dozens of his own blasters behind him half-buried in the ground.  
  
“conductor chum, i know you’re stalling for time. let me in the train already!”  
  
The Conductor shrugged, and snapped his fingers before Dusty could rush forward. The ground beneath them exploded into a haphazard field of blue bones, trapping his opponent in a makeshift cage.  
  
“now that i have your attention, here’s my advice: join the snowdin express.”  
  
Dusty narrowed his eye sockets as he kept trying to slash at the cage, to no avail.  
  
“i’m not joining your little band of runaways. that demon needs to be stopped before they can do even more damage! wait-” The red lights in Dusty’s eyes grew in excitement, while the Conductor took a step back. “you could help me and papyrus with our… you aren’t going to help, are you?”  
  
The Conductor shook his head as he began walking away.  
  
“desperation on your part is only gonna make the kid stronger, buddy.”  
  
Dusty tried pulling away at the blue bones before teleporting out, chasing after the Conductor as he walked away towards the train.  
  
“wait! wait… i’ll uh…”  
  
Both of them stopped, falling silent for a few moments.  
  
“i’ll come along with.”  
  
The Conductor chuckled and winked at Dusty.  
  
“what a turnaround. i’m pretty sure everybody on that train is gonna kill you, but i think i still have space in my little personal car.”  
  
After pulling out a signal lamp and flashing a few more quick signals, the train was once again visible.  
  
“oh, and mind the anarchist in the room.”  
  
Before Dusty could figure out what that meant, the Conductor shortcutted them both into Car 6 as the train started moving again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'know, i intended for Sledge to be a crazy good cook, mind the pun, but it didn't really fit because i literally only know how to make toast and microwaved foods, and binging wikipedia foods while i barely take care of myself with a cheese bagel a day is not a good idea
> 
> it might be a little disappointing that all the Conductor gets is the ability to walk on anything using telekinesis and blue magic but that's what i had at the moment, sorry.
> 
> i don't want him to be an overpowered sans or anything, because he was pretty ordinary in the last fanfi- wait, i said too much
> 
> until the next chapter. see ya, chums.
> 
> Dusttale's written form is owned by https://ask-dusttale.tumblr.com
> 
> it is not from the popular fangame based off of the AU.


	6. Amnesiac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor goes to the Engine with his two pals to try and get some answers about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter
> 
> sorry, had a bit of a block with writing today
> 
> it ended off on a good bit so i didn't want to extend it

Ah, another week off for the Conductor. A relaxing time where he drank alcohol-infused ketchup at the dining car while playing Dungeons & Dragons with a child.  
  
While Sledge was generally well accepted except among the mechanics, Dusty was not, despite his quick turnaround. He couldn’t really blame them, though.  
  
Though, despite the dust that clung to his coat, and the red-tinted lights in his eye sockets, he was relatively normal for a Sans. Perhaps he was more… eccentric. Curious, even, despite his destiny to be a lazy bag of bones. Not eccentric as in outgoing or anything like that, hell no, he stayed _far_ away from most people, but eccentric as in energetic, and more curious. He hadn’t seen anything like that from a Sans.  
  
Despite everything that had happened in the past week, his long deserved week off felt… slow, somehow.   
  
Every single time he woke up and got out of bed, he rummaged through his coat and stared at the old photo, turning it over occasionally to look at the signatures on the back.  
  
 _“signed by: cabbie, smokes, geno, us paps, stars, insans, fell, locke, and key.”_ _  
__  
_Along with the signatures, a crude picture of a taxi was doodled in the corner. As the Conductor stared at the 9 skeletons in the picture, he kept digging into his memories, trying to find something that would answer his questions, but to no avail.  
  
It was like he was a blank slate. As a skeleton who has been alive for longer than he can remember, the Conductor hated the feeling of not knowing about everything around him, especially about his past. He sighed.  
  
Suddenly, somebody knocked on the door, then opened it after a moment, revealing Dusty. The Conductor stuffed the photo back into his pocket as the other skeleton walked in, staring at the pocket.  
  
“what’s with the picture?”  
  
The Conductor glanced away.  
  
“just something that's giving me a lotta questions and no answers to go with them.” He put on his coat and walked past Dusty out the doors.  
  
The other skeleton tilted his head as the Conductor walked into the next car.  
  
“why not go to the engine? tell me if i’m wrong, but you’ve said the people there haven’t come out in decades. maybe they’d have answers.”  
  
The Conductor stopped, and turned back towards his residence.  
  
After a minute, he walked out of Car 6 with two other skeletons in tow.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
After ignoring the odd looks from their fellow passengers while walking through the train, the three stopped in front of a giant metal door that was shaped as if it was made for a bunker, twistable handle and all. It looked worn down, and old.  
  
The Conductor scratched his head as they stared at the door.  
  
“well, this isn’t ominous at all.”  
  
Dusty glanced at him while Sledge was busy twisting the handle. The diodes in his mask lit up into a progress bar that was a third full.  
  
“hey, centuries old, remember? i bet they probably just gave up cleaning it. doppelgangers after my own heart… you know, if i had one.”  
  
The Conductor chuckled as Sledge’s mask displayed a green checkmark after making the last turn on the handle. The door clicked and began to open, squeaking from disuse.  
  
They all took a step back as the cab depressurized, making a loud hiss before the door finally stopped. The Conductor raised a bonebrow at the sound.  
  
“yikes. this reminds me of those space horror movies that somebody brought at the last movie night.”  
  
He pulled out his signal lamp to light up the cab as they walked in. Dusty shook his head.  
  
“not the time for that kinda stuff, man.”  
  
Aside from the fizzled out lights and the decrepit old tools, a metal desk sat on the left part of the cab, with papers and other items of interest neatly gathered on top of it.  
  
Sledge took to wandering around the cab, grabbing random tools and instruments of interest, while Dusty stared out the front of the train towards the Void, watching the faraway screens in the ‘sky’ as if they were stars.  
  
The Conductor sat at the desk and looked through the papers. On closer inspection, most of the papers were old letters and blueprints for the Snowdin Express. Old news. Though, what piqued his interest most was the leather-back book with a bookmark, and a small, black box with flowery engravings.  
  
He opened up the book, only to be stuck at a photo taped to the first, empty page. He pulled out his own photo from the pocket and compared them.  
  
Identical. He could feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he set the photos aside.  
  
“i-i don’t… i don’t understand.”  
  
Dusty turned to the Conductor.  
  
“what, you find a portal to the sock dimension?”  
  
The other skeleton walked over to him and looked at the two photos. Dusty’s eyesockets narrowed at the sight.  
  
“huh. well that’s quite a enigma you got there. bet you twenty g there's gonna be a side quest that'll throw you off, but don't lose sight now, buddy.”  
  
The Conductor shook his head in annoyance, and set the photos aside. He flipped to the next page of the book, only to find it was a diary, but for whom? He started to read out loud while Dusty looked over his shoulder. As usual for a Sans, it was written in a familiar, atrocious font.  
  
 _“entry number one: today's the day. i took the old teleporter out of the taxi and transplanted it into an abandoned train, but i dunno what the hell this train is supposed to be called. bunch of numbers. i think it’s a steam locomotive though. real old stuff, am i right?"_ _  
__  
_He stared down at the desk for a moment. Dusty whistled as he read the entry himself, noting the yellowed pages and faded writing.  
  
“i dunno if we should stay here, man. that book is giving me some weird vibes, and i don’t like it.”  
  
The Conductor shrugged. He grabbed the book, the engraved box, and several letters with wax seals before walking out of the Engine with both of the skeletons in tow. Sledge's mask lit up with several exclamation points in protest. Though he wanted to check out more of the machinery, the other two didn't want to think of the consequences of letting him be.  
  
The metal door behind them made a sharp metallic whine as it closed shut, while the handle twisted itself counterclockwise and made the click of a lock as the three walked away.  
  
Perhaps the Conductor might finally get on _track_ with his past, and his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, polar express was a good movie
> 
> can't wait to re-enact the scenes as battles or something
> 
> again, sorry that this is short
> 
> i'll hopefully get back on track with all this, mind the pun.
> 
> i was... bored this week.


	7. Do Not Resuscitate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Dusty on a walk through a medical ward filled with victims of genocide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to go for a bit more gloom here, but the chapter was rushed partially despite me saying i would take my time
> 
> sorry, i had fresh ideas after watching reddit stories about DNR patients
> 
> anyways, trigger warning for those who have lost somebody
> 
> skipping this chapter won't really do much, but you might need context for later things.

For Dusty, medical checkups _really_ weren’t his kind of thing. The doctor he knew was the clumsy old Alphys who quickly hid away from him when he… turned for the worse. He couldn’t blame her.  
  
At the moment, he was pretty content with what he had. Though he was curious about the book and the letters from the Engine, Dusty mostly set the matter aside and watched Sledge attempt cooking. Of course, the pancake he made had so much air in it that it exploded… somehow.  
  
He wondered why the guy had such an affinity for bombs.  
  
He noted that the Conductor stopped taking to the bottle, only for celebrations and whenever he battled against the monochrome kid, who he called the 'dungeon master', whatever that meant.  
  
After a few days of relative normalcy, the Conductor sat in front of him on the couch with a mostly blank look.  
  
“i want you to go see the doctor.”  
  
Dusty glanced around the other skeleton confusedly, trying to find what he did wrong. The Conductor noted it, and shook his head.  
  
“just wanna check before you take a turn for the worse or something else like that. nothing too special, alright?”  
  
He shrugged, and walked out the door with the Conductor following behind.  
  
After a few minutes, they stopped in front of the Doctor’s medical car. Dusty looked through the single rectangular window at the unpainted metal walls, and the cabinets that looked full to the brim with medicine.  
  
Suddenly, the door swung open, and the Conductor pushed him in. He stumbled and nearly tripped before finally balancing himself. He looked up after he regained his balance, only to find the Doctor sitting in a chair, patiently waiting with a blank stare on her face.  
  
“I’ve been wondering when you’d arrive. One second...”  
  
She pulled out a cushioned stool with wheels from under the desk and rolled it over to Dusty. He grabbed the chair, and then sat down, nervous. The Doctor showed him a kind smile as she spoke.  
  
“Now, you’ve been called here by the Conductor to, quote ‘teach him’ unquote. It is my understanding that you are mostly a… secret to others. Come, I think we have lots to talk about. Don’t worry about the crowds, they don’t know about you, right?”  
  
Dusty felt unsure about the whole thing, but followed the Doctor regardless through a door that seemingly led outside the train, until he found himself in a large white room, filled to the brim with patients, medical staff…  
  
…and the gut-wrenching sight of dust.  
  
Dusty grimaced at such a thing, but continued to walk together with the Doctor. She spoke in a hushed voice.  
  
“This is where all the injured and the fallen go.”  
  
She gestured to two monsters laid down on dusty green cots, one with an irritated, perhaps angry expression, while the other laid peacefully and unresponsive to anything. Dusty could’ve sworn that he saw a part of them crumble into dust as they walked past the other nurses and doctors. Dusty started to sweat as he held his arms close to him nervously. He couldn’t see it, but the Doctor smirked a little before going back to her blank stare.  
  
“Nervous, right? I don’t blame you.”  
  
They walked past a cot with a skeleton wearing black and red clothing, unresponsive to anything in his slumber. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be another Sans, with cracked bones that seemed just about ready to dust, locked in a hopeless, grim expression for the remainder of his life.  
  
“In this ward, we’ve all lost someone-” She gestured towards another Sans wearing military fatigues. He looked just about ready to start sobbing as he clutched two dog tags in his hand while he was being treated by the medical staff. The Doctor turned to Dusty as they walked past. “-including you. You lost everything so many times that you would rather have dusted them yourself. Am I wrong?”  
  
Dusty stayed silent. The Doctor nodded slightly as she spoke.  
  
“Thought so. It’s my understanding that you can… remember previous timelines. Right?”  
  
He nodded as the two of them walked into the next room, full of fallen monsters with peaceful expressions in their eternal slumber. Dusty shivered.  
  
“When you sat at the table and told the kid that story, you asked them a question.”  
  
 _‘_ _is what you have to do… really worth it?’_ _  
__  
_Dusty looked up to the Doctor with a stunned expression as his thoughts flickered back to the MTT Resort.  
  
“I think you should really take that to heart, even if you don’t exactly possess one. I think that question is an excellent way to calm yourself. Remember it whenever you feel… off, or not in the right mind. Okay?”  
  
The skeleton glanced away. The Doctor looked back at him and smiled, just before a hearty laugh echoed from one of the smaller rooms in the ward. Both of them looked at the source of the noise, and walked in the room.  
  
The room seemed to be for comfort care, with flowers, a comfy bed, a television, and one large window. A lively, yet old tortoise monster with a pointed beard and beige archeological attire was looking at both of them, smiling as he set aside the TV remote.  
  
“ Honestly, I wasn’t expecting visitors so soon! Sit down, sit down.”  
  
He pointed shakily to two chairs in the corner. Dusty rolled a chair over to the Doctor, and they both sat down to listen to the tortoise.  
  
“Glad to see some familiar faces, but I reckon with all the wacky stuff, like multiverses and timelines going on that we haven’t been introduced! My name’s Gerson, a veteran and archeologist! I might need to retire though, wa ha ha. What’s yer names, you two?”  
  
Dusty shifted uncomfortably.  
  
“my name is dusty.”  
  
Gerson’s eyes narrowed for a moment, obviously noting the skeleton’s clothing coated with… dust. He looked over to the Doctor, who had a grim expression.  
  
“I am the Doctor. I manage most of the medical ward.”  
  
The tortoise laughed heartily again, and looked back at her, although with a slight bit of melancholy in his eyes.  
  
“My memory must be goin’ real fuzzy to forget the most important person here, wa ha ha! Certainly must be my time to go, eh? Anyways, what brings you two here?”  
  
The Doctor spoke first.  
  
“He is here for-”  
  
Gerson cut in as he scratched his head, trying to remember something.  
  
“Wait, wait! Let me guess…” The tortoise turned to Dusty, who looked around to try and not make eye contact. _“You took matters into your own hands, didn’t you?”_ _  
__  
_Dusty panicked, hyperventilating as he tried to get up and leave. Before he could get out of the chair, his soul flickered green as he froze. Gerson smiled, although it was strained from his already dwindling supply of magic.  
  
“Don’t worry, kiddo! I may have only been here in this wacky little train for a short time, but I can tell that every person here was hurt, someway or another. Ah, you remind me of the skeleton over in Snowdin who came over from time to time. Hit me in the funny bone, wa ha ha!”  
  
The other two could barely get out a faint chuckle, despite the calm and happy atmosphere. Gerson seemed to notice somebody else in the room, though when the Doctor looked around, there was nobody there.  
  
“Hmm… that other skeleton in the room sure does look like your brother, though, doesn’t he?”  
  
The skeleton stopped completely as the faint red outline of Papyrus’ phantom appeared above him. Dusty looked up slowly at Gerson’s face.  
  
His eyes were beginning to gloss over. The Doctor noticed, but did nothing to stop it. He stayed completely still as the tortoise laughed heartily yet again before looking back at Dusty with an accepting expression.  
  
“Judging from that look, I’d say it’s the finale for me. Don’t worry about what other people think of you, kiddo.” Gerson set his hat on the skeleton’s head. “You might have caused a lot of hurt, but you’ve taken a lot more. Too much, I would say.”  
  
The tortoise squinted at the phantom above Dusty’s head, though the Doctor didn’t notice it as she stared down at the floor in regret.  
  
“Now that I get a better look at ‘em, your brother kind of looks like an angel.”  
  
The lights in Dusty’s eyes disappeared as he saw the color in Gerson’s arms dry up into a dirty grey, disintegrating into dust. Despite crumbling, the tortoise still smiled as he took his last breath.  
  
“I forgive you, sonny. Keep on staying alive, and if anyone asks, you’re doing your best to do so! Wa ha ha…”  
  
Gerson laid back in his bed with a look of acceptance as the color in his face drained and turned to dust.  
  
The two of them held a moment of silence for him before the Doctor pressed a red button next to the doorway. A nurse walked in with a decorated clay jar and grabbed the spyglass on the windowsill before beginning to pour the dust into the jar.  
  
Dusty walked out of the medical ward with the Doctor, still in shock from witnessing somebody before him die with such… acceptance.  
  
As they took their seats in the bland, grey room on office chairs, the Doctor brought him back by waving her hand in front of his face. As he blinked repeatedly to adjust, she leaned forward.  
  
“How do you feel?”  
  
Dusty fell silent yet again for a moment, before burying his hands in his face, covering his eyesockets as he sweated bullets.  
  
“i-i don’t know.”  
  
The Doctor tilted her head as the skeleton picked up Gerson’s hat from his head and stared at it.  
  
“i just don’t know how to feel about… this.”  
  
The adventurous archeologist’s words rang inside Dusty’s head as she nodded in understanding.  
  
 _“I forgive you, sonny.”_   
  
Dusty simply couldn’t understand the tortoise’s acceptance as he crumbled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gerson was one of the best options i really had for the guy who would talk to them and say "i forgive you"
> 
> the other option was probably a wolf monster of some kind
> 
> but tortoise man is way cooler
> 
> he needs more fanfictions about him, wa ha ha!


	8. Happy Breaktime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor goes on a walk to blow off some steam. He meets an adolescent human with odd powers.

After the Conductor had picked up the diary from the Engine, it seemed that fate simply guided the rest of his friends along a long, stressful path.  
  
Dusty became quieter than ever, clutching an old hat in his hand that resembled one an archeologist would wear. The Conductor assumed the worst when the Doctor had sent him a message, apologizing for something he couldn’t really understand completely, since the text was the size of an essay.  
  
From what he could tell by glossing over it, Dusty witnessed somebody die before his very eyesockets.  
  
Yikes.  
  
The Conductor had similar results trying to find out about his own past. He opened up all the letters and searched through them, finding nothing but the worrisome, lonely messages from a skeleton who missed his friends when they went their separate ways.  
  
Cabbie. That was his name, or at least his nickname. For some reason, the Conductor felt that it was… familiar, somehow.  
  
He became increasingly frustrated as he read dozens of entries during his legally required breaks, and his off weeks. For hours at a time, he would lay in bed and try to decipher the letters and diary entries in his head in an attempt to find some kind of hidden meaning that would bring him just a _little_ bit closer to finding out his past.  
  
Yet… nothing came up.  
  
This week, the Conductor was off work, continuing to read Cabbie’s diary as Sledge cooked pancakes, which was obvious from the smell that came from the kitchen. A Multiverse Mettaton broadcast played from the television, mere background noise while he flipped through the pages.  
  
_“entry number 12 today. the train’s batteries are almost topped up to power everything. the bone magic holding together the cars… the teleporter… it’s kinda like the batteries are designed to be sabotaged. foreshadowing…? naaaah._ _  
_ _  
_ _i sent out some letters to check up on my buddos, but… there’s been no response for a month. i don’t exactly expect their interdimensional mail system to be up to speed, but what the hell is happening? is everybody just… forgetting?_ _  
_ _  
_ _i’m sending out a sonic leaflet tomorrow. i really hope i’m not right about this.”_ _  
_ _  
_ The Conductor stared at the page for a moment, shellshocked by the sudden flow of information.  
  
Everything was starting to click together. Was he the original owner of the Snowdin Express? What about Sledge? He couldn’t conclude his research just yet. The diary was obviously centuries old. Who knows what happened to the writer since then? Being hasty would only pull him further away from the truth.  
  
He fell silent as he put the copied photo in the page as a bookmark as Sledge turned off the stove and brought over the pancakes.  
  
Dusty walked into the living room and sat on the couch next to the Conductor, noticing his silence. Though he wanted to say something to break the silence, he refrained as Sledge set the not-half-bad pancakes on the coffee table in front of them, and sat down with the two.  
  
Suddenly, the Conductor got up and walked back into his room with the diary, setting it down on something before walking back into the living room with a bored expression.  
  
“okay, screw all of this. i’m going on a walk.”  
  
He ignored whatever the other two skeletons said (wait, does Sledge talk?) as he threw on his uniform and walked out the door.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
As the Conductor walked through the train, he stopped by several cars to visit a multitude of AUs. The antics of the survivors was pretty funny, though he couldn’t help but think the survivors were only doing such activities because they wanted to forget.  
  
A Dusttrust Sans chasing another human visitor with a maid dress… an Undershuffle Sans rising out of a black puddle on the cold hard ground of the dimensional storage to offer a kid a bad time… the list went on, including another group of Sanses recording a news broadcast.  
  
He grinned even more as he walked into another car, looking through the dimensional doorway to check out the town within.  
  
It seemed to be a concrete jungle, full of cars and skyscrapers that blocked out the white sky of the dimensional storage. Even though the city was vast, it was…  
  
... _completely empty._  
  
The sound of car engines and horns that should’ve been commonplace were absent. The lights in every home went dark, and nobody was on the sidewalk. He cautiously walked onto the street to get a closer look.  
  
Suddenly, the sharp crack of a rifle rang out across the city. The Conductor threw up a cage of blue bones around himself for protection. He watched as a bullet tore through them before dropping harmlessly on the asphalt.  
  
He could hear the enthusiastic voice of a kid call out towards him.  
  
“Haha, nice reflexes!”  
  
The Conductor peered through the bone cage, and saw an adolescent standing from across the street with a cheerful expression, so eerily cheerful that you couldn’t see his eyes. He had curly black hair that looked incredibly unkempt. The kid wore a bland grey sweater and black sweatpants that had white lines on them, not too unlike from the shorts that a normal classic Sans would wear.  
  
Though he sounded energetic, his appearance practically screamed the word “tired”, obvious from the bags under his eyes and his slumped posture. To the Conductor, the kid could be branded as a Sans and nobody would know any better. He assumed the kid’s low height was only because they were barely over 13, at least from his guesses.  
  
In their right hand was a lever-action rifle that still had wisps of smoke floating out of the barrel as he walked towards the cage of glowing blue bones.  
  
When he stopped in front of the bones, the kid pulled back… and slammed his fist into them, sending shards of bones everywhere as a sickening crunch could be heard. The Conductor was sure they had fractured their knuckles doing that, but the kid’s cheerful expression remained, even while blood dripped onto the ground from his mangled hand.  
  
He peeked through the head-sized space he had punched in and chuckled when the Conductor backed up.  
  
“Let's spar!"  
  
The Conductor narrowed his eyesockets as the bones around him lowered into the ground. He could see the bone fragments in the kid’s fist disintegrate, replaced by fresh scars.  
  
“what?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the short chapter AND the cliffhanger
> 
> i crashed for like 12 hours yesterday and woke up at 5 PM
> 
> by the way, a sonic leaflet is just a piece of paper made out of sonic flowers
> 
> i took the concept from Alltale's, you can go find the AU here: http://zhuyishanren.lofter.com
> 
> hope you can read chinese cause i sure as hell can't. but hey, it's still a cool AU
> 
> saying anything more would be spoilers for the story. i hope the storyline isn't too obvious about the conductor though.
> 
> credits have been added to chapter 5 for dusttale's written form. it is NOT for the fangame based on the AU.


	9. Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor has a friendly "spar" with an adolescent who has no sense of self preservation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's hard not to add another character to the mix when there's only 4 to expand on.
> 
> i don't think the kid is a self-insert anymore, simply because he shares *nothing* in common with me except appearance.
> 
> changes will be reflected in chapter 8
> 
> sorry that this is another short one, i have a ton of fucking work to do and i'm kinda sacrificing my grades to work on this

The Conductor’s adolescent sparring partner stood idle in front of him on the street, maybe 2 to 3 meters away, give or take. The kid looked bored, letting his lever-action rifle lay on his right shoulder while the Conductor stashed away his hat before it could be blown away.   
  
After finishing his preparations, he took a cautious stance and looked directly at them.   
  
“ready.”   
  
The kid nodded and grabbed his rifle with his other hand, before stopping abruptly. The kid rubbed the back of his head with an embarrassed expression as he lowered his weapon.   
  
“Ah, where are my manners? I think I should introduce myself first. My name is Kawa. As in the river, not the child.”   
  
The Conductor narrowed his eyesockets when Kawa specified, but continued anyways.   
  
“just the conductor is fine.”   
  
Kawa continued to smile as he loaded another round into his rifle.   
  
“Well, I won’t keep you waiting any longer than I have to. Three…”   
  
Several grey sparks appeared in the Conductor’s eyesockets as they both prepared their magic, while black lines appeared from under Kawa’s shoes, engulfing the environment in a grid.   
  
“Two…”   
  
The Conductor could feel his body hover above the ground, if only slightly as dark blue colors swirled in his soul. The kid raised an eyebrow at his magic, but continued counting down.   
  
“One…”   
  
Kawa opened his eyes, revealing piercing golden eyes as his opponent flew higher. He put his finger on the trigger and slowly raised his rifle while the Conductor gripped several underground bones for a preemptive strike.   
  
“Here we go!”   
  
The Conductor flew up into the air as a field of bones ravaged the streets around them. Kawa leaped back and aimed his rifle up into the sky where he hovered, letting loose half a dozen rapidfire shots before flipping it by the lever to begin reloading.   
  
The skeleton manifested a spinning bone that blocked several bullets, save for the others that zipped past. A blaster opened its jaws to fire at Kawa…   
  
Suddenly, the grid beneath them burst into technicolor squares, and the Conductor’s blaster was somehow placed behind him instantaneously. He flew out of the way before it could fire, sending a beam of energy melting the ground next to Kawa. The Conductor whistled.   
  
“that’s some unique magic you got going on over there, kid.”   
  
Kawa shrugged as he loaded the last round into his rifle. Before he knew it, the Conductor was standing on the ground, though he was prepared and jumped back up to where he used to be.   
  
“It’s nothing special.”   
  
The Conductor raised an eyesocket as he brought up another field of bones before appearing on the ground. As expected, they spontaneously appeared in his own path. Before he could fly back up into the air, Kawa rushed forward. He threw up several walls of bones and leaped away as the kid bashed through all of them with his left arm.   
  
“what do you mean nothing special?"   
  
From the Conductor’s perspective, his arm looked bloodied and broken in several places, though Kawa never indicated he felt even a bit of pain as he swung at him with his rifle. The Conductor sweated bullets as he sidestepped every attack.   
  
Was the kid actually trying to dust him?   
  
Instantaneously, Kawa appeared from behind him, ready for a finishing blow before he spun around and launched back with blue magic. The Conductor summoned a blaster and threw it at the kid, sending clouds of debris into the air as he slammed into a building.   
  
The Conductor dropped the rest of his magic and ran towards the cloud of debris, but stopped as Kawa walked out of the dust cloud with a giant bloody spike of rebar and concrete through his chest, bleeding heavily.   
  
Despite the enormous pain and likely destroyed human organs that the Conductor had heard so much about, Kawa kept casually walking forward with a smile. He took a few panicked steps backwards as the kid got closer. Impossibly, they spoke with perfect clarity as if they DIDN’T have a mortal wound, with a hand to their chin in contemplation.   
  
“I think we should postpone this match. I might have gotten a bit  _ too _ into it.”   
  
If the Conductor didn’t have a fused jaw, it would have hit the ground. He threw his arms up into the air in frustration as he talked.   
  
“a- a little?! you have a giant spike through your chest!”   
  
Kawa looked down and pointed at the object which was literally going through his chest. The Conductor nodded rapidly.   
  
“Ah, sorry to trouble you. My, uh… magic does that.”   
  
The Conductor narrowed his eyesockets to slits in disbelief as he dragged Kawa back to the train.   
  
“what the hell kind of magic cheats death?!”   
  
The kid pulled his (obviously still shattered) left arm out of the skeleton’s grip and shrugged with his other arm after putting away his rifle. Despite a giant spike of rebar and concrete still being embedded in his body, the wound stopped bleeding as they walked into the train.   
  
“I don’t really know how to explain it. Unless somebody hits me with a  _ real _ strong attack that destroys my brain, I’m not going to die. Simple as that.”   
  
Needless to say, the Conductor was officially done trying to reason with Kawa.   
  
“alright, come on, i’m taking you to the doctor.”   
  
Kawa stared at him with a confused expression.   
  
“Who’s the Doctor?”   
  
The Conductor resisted the urge to punch him as he dragged the kid through the train, obviously earning shocked and disbelieving expressions from other passengers as they got closer to the Doctor's car.   
  
“well, no god damn wonder you think everything about you is normal…”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kawa wears business shoes for the wholesome and annoying click clack they make on hard floors
> 
> i'm likely not going to write a character that explains kawa's magic, so here goes.
> 
> edited for clarity
> 
> kawa creates a localized copy of the area around him into a separate dimension, visualized by the technicolor grid he summons through determination, essentially overriding SAVE/LOAD/RESET permissions for that specific area, if that makes sense. because the multiverse is rooted in code, he can manipulate the position data of any object down to a microscopic level (example: the conductor's blaster). along with saving and loading, this means he can essentially postpone death for himself as long as he has determination and his brain to enforce it
> 
> but the conductor can fly so it's totally balanced lol


	10. Burger Truck King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor goes to the Omega Timeline after having his walk interrupted. He finds a food truck owned by Asgore and has a talk with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stole the pun from an undertale animation lol
> 
> anyways, if it's a little hard to imagine kawa with a spike of rebar and concrete in his chest, here's two words that will make you instantly understand
> 
> kakyoin donut
> 
> trying to make the chapters a little larger, i might have to adjust the average time i take to update

Without saying anything, the Doctor leaped into action after the Conductor had hauled Kawa into the medical car, dragging him by his right arm onto a medical bed. He was actually impressed that she said nothing, considering the kid was still moving and coherent despite having a chunk of rebar and concrete that went through his chest like a spear.   
  
The wound actually reminded Kawa of a donut, which worried the other two even more. The Doctor shooed away the Conductor as she began extracting the building chunk after the bleeding had stopped, likely from sheer Determination at work.   
  
The Conductor didn’t exactly question most of it, or rather, he didn’t have the time to question it, mostly because he was spending the rest of the day playing Dungeons and Dragons alone, against the same monochrome kid who took the dungeon master role. You know, while drunk off his mind on ketchup.   
  
“i roll to seduce the dragon.”   
  
Core covered their eye...sockets with their hand and sighed, shaking their head as the Conductor rolled the dice.   
  
“You do know dragons have no comprehension of the English langua-”   
  
“hey hey hey, stop for a moment there. this time i’m using body language instead.”   
  
The kid faceplanted on the table and groaned while the skeleton rolled yet another 20. They continued after pulling themselves up with great difficulty.   
  
“The dragon somehow understands you and lets you slip past the boss room doors, of course without any valuables or reward because you let it live.”   
  
The skeleton chuckled and took another swig of ketchup. Grillby looked at him from across the bar with a disapproving expression.   
  
“y’know frisky, i dunno if i like this job anymore. maybe i should just-”  The Conductor hiccuped.  “maybe i should just quit and settle down somewhere in a classic version of snowdin. the good old days, amiright?”   
  
Though Core had been through this all-too-familiar conversation multiple times, they sighed, and listened to his monologue while putting away the D&D supplies.   
  
“now, last week i wake up, and woop de fuckin do! there’s a photo in my pocket, and it’s full of a buncha skeletons that i dunno. ‘s real frustrating when you can’t remember  _ anything _ about a thing like that. ”   
  
The kid shrugged as they packed the last of the supplies and somehow absorbed it through their… eyes?   
  
“You should probably take a break to clear your head. Sorry if that doesn’t help, it’s just the first thing that came to my mind.”   
  
Core glanced away as they spoke… or turned their head to look at something. He couldn’t tell, but the Conductor nodded as he got up from his chair.   
  
“thanks kiddo.”   
  
Now, how the hell does he go to that OT place…? In the back of his mind, a memory resurfaced of him in classic Sans clothing, opening a door while thinking about going there. He brushed off the memory as a figment of the imagination in his drunkenness.   
  
It seemed to be pretty much impossible as he walked out the diner car, until he found himself standing in the doorway to a completely white dimension, occupied by nothing except a city in the middle of nowhere.   
  
He took a few steps forward, trying not to stumble. The Conductor closed the door behind him and looked around, noting the bulletin board sitting in front of him, with the words “Welcome to the Omega Timeline” written in rainbowy text. Among that were various other items, such as a Mettaton wearing ill-fitting human legs, a missing knife poster… a sock nailed to the board, et cetera.   
  
Three rules were written on the board. No fighting, guns, or littering, along with a nailed on sign that read “no vandalism (read: STOP blowing up Grillby’s)”.    
  
He chuckled, and began his drunken walk into one of the city streets.   
  
Immediately after entering one of the busier streets, he heard a familiar, jolly voice call out to him.   
  
“Howdy there, skeleton!”   
  
That sounded like Asgore. The Conductor turned to look at him, only to find what looked like a burger truck parked to the side of the street. Though he didn’t have many customers, the lovable goat man was still as cheerful as his other counterparts, unless you counted Underfell.   
  
The Conductor walked up to meet him from the window. He stashed away his ketchup flask after he had realized it was still out as Asgore peeked his head out the window, covered in fur nets. He tried his best not to look drunk, but the fluffy goat monster noticed regardless.   
  
“i- uh… hello.”   
  
Asgore tilted his head in curiosity.   
  
“Golly, you’re looking a bit under the weather there. Would you like a cup of tea?”   
  
Before the Conductor could answer, the boss monster walked out of view, and a door swung open on the side of the truck. He motioned for the skeleton to come in. The Conductor leapt up into the truck, assisted by Asgore before he could fall and hurt himself.   
  
Besides cooking appliances and utensils at the front, the food truck looked quite cozy, with a little living area containing two large chairs (one dusty) sitting to the side. For a second, the Conductor thought Asgore’s truck had a dimensional storage inside it.   
  
He sat down as the goat monster set a kettle on the stove in the corner and snapped his fingers, lighting a fire to heat the water. Asgore turned to him.   
  
“I can never quite get the amount of fire right… oh well. My name is Asgore. What is yours?”   
  
“i’m the… the conductor.”   
  
Asgore raised an eyebrow and sat down in the other chair. It creaked from his weight.   
  
“What an interesting name. How about I try to guess the alternate universe you are from? Hmm… how about Traintale?”   
  
Unfortunately, the goat monster still had zero naming sense despite being around such a colorful variety of people. Once the Conductor felt his head become a little clearer, he spoke with limited clarity.   
  
“eh, not quite. it’s… called the snowdin express.”   
  
The goat monster chuckled right as the kettle began whistling. He got up from the chair and grabbed a nearby box, presumably filled with tea bags, and promptly took the kettle off the stove as the magical flames went out. He grabbed two porcelain plates and teacups, filled them with hot water, and then set the teabags in the cups.   
  
“Ah, sounds interesting. May I hear more about it? It’s rather calm right now, so I have time.”   
  
The Conductor glanced away, but kept talking now that he was beginning to sober up.   
  
“it’s a centuries old train capable of multiverse transportation, and all that technobabble that- uh... would’ve made my brain turn to fuzz if i had one. we pick up survivors of genocide, and that’s… that’s it.”   
  
Asgore blinked.   
  
“Hmm. That sounds awfully similar to the OT.”   
  
He narrowed his eyesockets as the goat monster took a sip of tea.   
  
“wuh- what do you mean?”   
  
Both of them looked out the window towards the crowds in the street. Among them were several ragged monsters with hollow expressions.   
  
“Survivors. The child, Core!Frisk invites them to the Omega Timeline if they are all alone. It is typically Sanses that survive, but I’ve seen others. It must be quite the burden for all of them, but especially Frisk, Poppy, and  _ you. _ ”   
  
The Conductor stopped abruptly, and pointed at himself. Asgore nodded.   
  
“All three of you have seen and heard of countless genocides. After a while… it all blends together, does it not?”   
  
He fell silent for a moment, and took a sip from his cup. It was… calming, to say the least.   
  
“w-word for word.”   
  
Asgore noticed the Conductor shaking and let him finish his tea before continuing.    
  
“Golly, I just remembered something about that child. Some two centuries ago, Frisk had mentioned a skeleton named Cabbie, and introduced me to them. He said something about owning a train, and the magic I could see around him… is awfully similar to yours, if I may be honest.”   
  
The Conductor froze. If he had any blood, it would’ve left his face already. He remembered the passing memory back in the dining car and shortcutted back to the door, leaving nothing but a blue flash of light as a door could be heard slamming in the distance.   
  
The ex-king looked at the cup of tea he had left, and held a paw to his chin in deep thought.   
  
“Perhaps… perhaps I said too much.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here in alaska, we have this neat little event called friday fling, basically a little market for various stuff.
> 
> i've been working in my mother's food truck/trailer thing for some years now
> 
> i love it, and by that i hate it so, so much
> 
> the chapter was originally going to have the Conductor break up a fight between two food truck owners, asgore and grillby.
> 
> but he's drunk and has no relation to them
> 
> he wouldn't stick his nose into their business
> 
> i know alcohol usually lasts for like 5 hours
> 
> but it would probably feel really watered down when your bones have no way of circulating the alcohol except the ones connected to the spine


	11. Amnesiac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor rediscovers his past identity as a person, and makes a discovery about the Multiverse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People all over the world (everybody)  
> Join hands (join)  
> Start a love train, love train  
> People all over the world (all the world, now)  
> Join hands (love ride)  
> Start a love train (love ride), love train

The Conductor burst into his cab, ignoring the shocked emoticon on Sledge’s mask and the confused expression on Dusty’s face as he yanked his bedroom door open. He grabbed Cabbie’s diary and the engraved black box before rushing back into the living room, tossing both on the coffee table.   
  
He flipped the diary open to a random page and read random excerpts to himself, while the other two nodded behind his back and left the Conductor to his own devices, closing the door behind them as they walked out.   
  
Everything he read seemed to confirm both his and Asgore’s thoughts.   
  
_ “-it’s getting a little hard to remember stuff. is this what being old is like?” _ _   
_ _   
_ He flipped through another page. _   
_ _   
_ _ “-i think the timeline reader is going bad, or something along those lines. i’ll check tonight.” _ _   
_ _   
_ ...and another page.   
  
_ “something’s wrong.” _ _   
_ _   
_ The Conductor felt like he was about to find out something important, continuing to read as the train passed through a Snowdin blizzard, icing up the windows while the lights in the room grew dimmer.   
  
_ “when the judges say the timelines are stopping and starting, they aren’t wrong. but i don’t think any of us could’ve imagined that this phenomenon, this…  _ **_anomaly_ ** _ could grow to such a large scale as… well… this.” _   
  
He flipped to the next page, where the entry continued.   
  
_ “the multiverse is going through a…  _ **_reset._ ** _ a mass wave of timelines restarting at the same time to the point where our friends, our memories… are all being brought back to zero. with that… a whole new wave of genocide begins, too.” _ _   
_ _   
_ Despite the freezing temperatures in the cab, the Conductor was sweating bullets.   
  
_ “i know that most of the out!coders already had a feeling about what was happening, but none of them seem to care. core is certainly trying, but they can’t accept refugees on a massive scale like this.” _ _   
_ _   
_ The cab grew dark, darker, yet darker as the lights went out from the cold. Announcements could be heard from the sound system as the heaters turned on in each car.   
  
_ “i have the resources.” _ _   
_ _   
_ The writing began to look like it was chicken scratch.   
  
_ “i have the space. so if nobody else will step up to the job…” _ _   
_ _   
_ It all came to a head as the Conductor read the last line.   
  
_ “then i will be the conductor of the snowdin express.” _ _   
_ _   
_ He fell quiet. In that moment, the Conductor found his original identity as the owner of one of the multiverse’s last shelters against the power to SAVE, and RESET, Cabbie.   
  
But while his mind raced with questions and thoughts about the world around him that he should’ve known all along, he asked himself one vital question. Did he want to go back? To become a hollow shell of what he used to be, still devoid of memory and connections to his previous pals?   
  
He pulled out the photo from another page in the book, staring at himself and the people closeby in the picture.   
  
Though he noted that one of the skeletons in the picture had horns identical to Sledge, the Conductor didn’t think much of it as he dozed off on the couch, too tired to process the flood of information.   
  
  
\---   
  
  
  
For Sledge and Dusty, leaving during the Conductor’s identity crisis was probably the best decision they could’ve made in that moment. Firstly, Sledge was mute, and secondly, Dusty had the moral compass of a five year-old; if he had one at all.   
  
Both of them could only look as the Conductor almost went mad, trying to search for his previous identity while dealing with the enormous stress and morally grey decisions that came with his job.   
  
Not wanting to open that can of worms, they instead sat in the icy roof of Car 6, the Conductor’s residence, in the middle of a Snowdin blizzard. Better than being spotted by him in the diner/bar car, of all places.   
  
Dusty stared at the pine trees while they went by, whipping his face around when one pine tree was out of view to another. Sledge attempted to eat the leftover pancakes he cooked despite having a mask with no openings. Dusty was actually impressed the skeleton could see out of the thing, what with the lights built-in and all.   
  
Hoping that he didn’t get whiplash, Dusty decided to go back inside. As he walked away, he waved to Sledge.   
  
“i’m gonna turn in for the night. see ya later, sledge.”   
  
Sledge stared at him as he grabbed the hood of Car 6 and swung back in.   
  
For a few minutes, he sat there, watching the blizzard before they left for the next timeline. Not too soon after Dusty left, a portal made of golden flames opened up to the Void, introducing nothing except the cold, unseeable ground and the black sky.   
  
After he brushed the snow off himself, Sledge flipped a hidden switch, depressurizing his mask with the telltale hiss of air. When he made sure that there was no other sound besides the Engine and the whistle, he released the other locks around his horns, and began to take off the mask.   
  
To the Conductor, he would’ve looked identical to the skeleton that wore a dark grey trench coat in the photo, with the scar on his left eyesocket that was carved all the way to the side of his skull by Cross.   
  
...and, well, he was. Though, Sledge didn’t feel like himself, nowadays.   
  
He set the mask aside and pulled a tarnished pistol from under his vest, staring at the centuries-old scratches, though it still looked fresh on the gunmetal that made the slide.   
  
Nevermind about all that. ~~Sledge~~ , no,  _ Smokes _ had a mission. Even if it was the last thing he did, he would bring everybody back together.   
  
He stashed the pistol back in his vest and put the helmet back on, locking it up before beginning his walk to the Engine.  
  
It was time for a manual override.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally an arc that doesn't end in 2 chapters
> 
> and then reintroduces 2 returning characters from SMTS
> 
> smokes is one of my better developed OCs, so i couldn't discard him then and there.
> 
> besides, i was planning on some other fanfictions about him anyways.
> 
> cabbie was a granted because hurr durr main protagonist important
> 
> was this secret reveal thing a little too obvious for both characters or no


	12. Stars Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sledge goes on a quest to bring the SMTS gang back together again, and begins with the Outertale Sans, nicknamed as Stars.
> 
> He finds him, but his timeline is... less than intact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next stop that we make will be england  
> tell all the folks in russia, and china, too  
> don't you know that it's time to get on board  
> and let this train keep on riding, riding on through  
> well, well

Sledge walked inside the Engine, not taking much interest in the controls and other trinkets that only brought up memories from when the gang was truly all-together. Memories that would… hold him back from his plan. A part of him felt that he shouldn’t have chased after enemies that had moved on long before he did, but seeing how Cabbie turned out...  
  
He walked to the front and looked down at where the firebox should’ve been, replaced by an odd metallic interface on top of a box that resembled a radio. Sledge was likely the only one who knew what it was. To him, it was a timeline reader, upgraded to pick random timelines and universes to teleport to as part of Cabbie’s mission.  
  
Made to be unbreakable, it had lasted two and a half centuries, emitting a soft blue glow as it absorbed the magic required to transport the Snowdin Express.  
  
Enough admiring the tech. Sledge had one job to do, and this is where he would start.  
  
He stepped up onto the computer interface and looked around. It seemed user-friendly, only needing an input universe name to function. He entered the name using an on-screen keyboard…  
  
OUTERTALE  
  
Sledge took a deep breath, and pressed ENTER. In that moment, he knew he had just doomed hundreds of lives, all of which would be brought back to zero as the cycle began anew.  
  
As Sledge stepped back, the timeline reader began making a soft purr as machinery around him began moving, and gears started to turn, while a circle of golden flames in the distance grew until it could fit the train, showing a black void that were devoid of anything, except for the tracks which the train traveled on, and hundreds of different screens full of static in the sky.  
  
As the Snowdin Express entered the Void, the screens switched to views of Outertale timelines, each in a different route, at a different point in time.  
  
In one, the Fallen and their friends stood next to dozens of spacecraft, admiring the stars for one last time before they returned to Earth.  
  
In another, the Fallen fought an uphill battle against an intergalactic capable of warping time, formed by a star and six human souls.  
  
For the other screens… well… it was nothing good. Covered in stardust, all of the routes seemed to meet at the Judgement Hall, where Sans had his last stand against the Genocider.  
  
Somewhere in that mess, Sledge could spot something unique, set apart from all the other timelines. A Failed Post Pacifist Route, in which the Fallen took a turn for the worse. The city on Earth which they had lived in was torn asunder, with car wrecks strewn around the streets, while stardust and blood on the ground was as common as the weeds.  
  
He only got a glimpse of the skeleton and the genocider standing in the middle of the street, before the train went through the portal to Outertale, but he was sure of his conclusion from that sight.  
  
That was Stars.  
  
Sledge began to shortcut back onto the top of the train as he set his sledgehammer over his shoulder.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The train screeched to a stop in the middle of Stardin. In the distance, Sledge could see the Conductor and several others wading through asteroid dust while the whistle of the train rang out in the distance.  
  
He hopped off the top of the train and ran behind a building before shortcutting into the CORE’s superstructure, which was overviewing every operation, mining, forging materials, and dispensing them into a collection bin for a now-dead civilization of monsters.  
  
He barely looked at the advanced mining equipment being used, and only took a moment to catch his breath before shortcutting again, straight into the Judgement Hall behind a column.  
  
Sledge peeked from behind the marble column. He saw a Sans standing against an open windowsill, wearing a blue cardigan with yellow sleeves, and two fluffy white slippers with stars glued on them. Without question, that was Stars.  
  
In front of him was the Genocider… though, if he had to be honest, he couldn’t recognize what they were wearing. The only thing Sledge could recognize aside from the blood, and caked-on stardust was a dark red knife that rippled with corrupted Determination.  
  
He stepped back out of view as Stars began his judgement.  
  
“so, we’re back here again. i… i don’t wanna say this, but... you've been _busy_ , huh?”  
  
The skeleton glanced at the knife, then back to the child. Their eyes shone with red determination, only covered by the shadow of overgrown hair.  
  
“you know what? let’s just get to the important questions…”  
  
Stars closed his eyesockets, contemplating his next part of the speech before continuing. He looked like he was about to tear up, figuratively and literally.  
  
“why? why did you feel the… the need to rip away our happy ending? to throw it on the ground and stomp on it like it was nothing?”  
  
Navy blue tears formed in his eyesockets, glittering in the starlight as Stars clenched his fists. The child smiled. Sledge kept trying to hold himself back from interfering until it was an opportune time, and nearly dropped his hammer in the process, and the skeleton continued speaking.  
  
“you’ve lived for two hundred and fifty years, kid. you have the power of determination to wind back 'your time', and yet… you used that power to _slaughter them._ ”  
  
Sledge looked through the window above Stars. If he had to be honest, the star above his head was the brightest he had ever seen, shining against the others as if it wanted to prove itself, to be strong. Stars tried to fight back his tears as he nearly broke his casual grin.  
  
“what about all that good food? the bad laughs, the wonderful memories that everybody had together? i- what about that beach trip, huh? that was really somethin’, right? we were like... a big, happy family, yeah?” Stars sounded desperate for an answer. “please. please just answer me, just this once, kid, okay? if you can use that power, then isn’t… isn’t it your responsibility to do the right thing? to use that power you have for good?”  
  
As if it was all a sick joke, the Genocider nodded, and took another step forward. Stars was practically quivering in his slippers while his hand shot up shakily, pointing towards the brightest star that they could see.  
  
Every word dripped with venom as he spoke. At the same time, every star seemed to pulse with light, as if they responded to him. A golden star burst into existence in Stars’ left eyesocket, rippling with cyan and white flames.  
 **  
****“Then why did you kill everybody _we_ loved?”** **_  
_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people all over the world (you don't need no money)  
> join hands (come on)  
> start a love train, love train (don't need no ticket, come on)  
> people all over the world (join in, ride this train)  
> join in (ride this train, y'all)  
> start a love train (come on, train), love train
> 
> i like to think white flames in the multiverse represent old age even though sanses are technically unaging (depends on the interpretation of skeletons though)
> 
> i had stars' dialogue thought out for a looooooong while. lemme know if it worked out well.


	13. Algol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sledge intervenes in the battle between Stars and the Genocider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early upload because i had nothing else to do
> 
> thanks for 200 hits

Sledge stood behind a column, readying his sledgehammer as the Judgement Hall flashed with the light of the stars. The starlight blinded the child as Stars threw them to the right, slamming them into the wall as the battle began. He seemed to be forcing back tears as he gave out his judgement.   
  
”it’s a wonderful night outside.”   
  
He slammed them into the floor and threw up an array of bones as the Genocider leaped away, grinning from ear to ear as they ran forward, knife first. Stars responded by bashing them back with a blaster. Steam rolled out of the blaster’s jaws as two yellow lights appeared in their eyesockets.    
  
“stars are shining...”   
  
The blaster made a low whine as it gathered up magical energy in a miniature sun before exploding outwards in a beam of starlight, turning the child’s left arm into a charred stump.   
  
“cities are burning...”   
  
The child pulled out a starfait and ate it greedily as their arm grew back. They stepped through the ashes of their destroyed arm. In an effort to conceal his presence before the battle got too wild, Sledge released the locks on his mask and shut it off before he set it behind another column.   
  
“on nights like these, kids like  _ you… _ ”   
  
Stars snapped his fingers, summoning four blasters as the Genocider slammed into the ceiling, disoriented from the change in gravity. The world went dark for a split-second as eight more blasters materialized. The glow they created almost made it seem like they were taking power from the cosmos above.   
  
“Should burn up amongst the stars.”   
  
Sledge watched as the other skeleton threw them back to the other side of the Judgement Hall, crunching them in a narrow airway of bones. Somehow, they weaved through without any damage, landing smoothly on the wall before hopping back onto the ground with a crimson smile, almost as if… they had done this before.   
  
In response, Stars threw them back into the ground. As the child bounced back into the air from the impact, four blasters circled around them, pulling in magic before opening their maws as several beams of starlight met under where they landed, sending an incredible burst of light from the conflicting energy.   
  
When the dust cleared, the only thing the two skeletons saw was ashes, mixed with faint stardust. A red, blinking star flared up into existence in the cosmos as time winded back at the whim of the Genocider.    
  
  
\---   
  
  
Sledge felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu, as Stars slammed the child back into the ground, sending them flying into the air as four blasters circled around them and fired. The Genocider leaped out of the way just in time before being incinerated by starlight, instead charring their dusty boots.   
  
As if such an event wasn’t supposed to happen, the deja vu only got worse after that moment. He was sure that the Conductor and the rest of the Snowdin Express felt the same thing. Stars took a step back before sending more blasters.   
  
At least it would give him a little more time for his plan. His plan was not to wait until his buddy, pal, and amigo, was tired enough for the Genocider to let down their guard. Far from it, actually.   
  
Sledge pulled his mask back with blue magic and opened it up to put it on. He closed up the mask around his horns and locked it, starting up the LEDs in it. It didn’t matter whether or not it drew attention.   
  
He liked to think that was the part he was best at.   
  
While noisily dragging his sledgehammer across the tiles, Sledge stepped into the light. Stars turned to him with a look of faint recognition, though the Genocider simply smiled, rushing forward with a grip of iron on their knife.   
  
Sledge knew that they were targeting the other skeleton. He crouched down, charging up magic before lunging forward with all his strength and blue magic. He could hear his bones cracking from the stress, but continued flying forward despite the pain.   
  
He brought his hammer to his left side as he landed. Tiles flew everywhere as he landed, only taking a moment to rest before spinning on his foot, swinging the sledgehammer at his opponent’s head.   
  
Sledge could hear the Genocider’s skull crack and shatter into pieces from the force, sending them sprawling onto the ground, knocked out by the blow (and likely comatose).   
  
Only then did he turn to Stars, who was still stunned by what he saw. The other skeleton glanced at his horns with a reinforced look of recognition.   
  
“...smokes?”   
  
Sledge’s mask flashed a sideways thumbs-up before rearranging it into the shape of a train, and the word “SAFETY”.   
  
Stars only shook his head, and winced, expecting another LOAD at that moment, though it never came. He breathed a sigh of relief before speaking again as Sledge’s mask showed a question mark.   
  
“it’s great to see you after all these years… but i have a job to do-”   
  
Sledge slammed his hammer on an untouched tile, making a loud crack that brought the other skeleton to attention. His mask flashed the word “ALGOL COMA”. Stars took a step back, but seemed to know what he meant.   
  
“algol, huh? it kind of fits. by the way, how’s cabbie doing?”   
  
His mask rippled with light, showing the words “IDENTITY LOSS”. Stars narrowed his eyesockets before they both looked at the red, blinking star in the cosmos. It seemed to be rippling with anger, if a star could feel such a thing at all. He looked back at Sledge.   
  
“...huh. well, i’ll help you however i can.”   
  
Not sparing a second look at the red star, he stared the brightest star in the sky. That was his brother’s star. Among his star were hundreds of others that seemed to appear overnight. Both of them began walking away.   
  
“guess he was right, huh?”   
  
Sledge turned to him with a question mark shown on his mask, but Stars shrugged with a faraway look on his face.   
  
“nothing. just something my brother told me. so, what's the next step, smokes?”   
  
The other skeleton nodded, and grabbed his hand as they shortcutted back into the Engine. Sledge was pretty happy with the results of his first objective.   
  
One down, six to go.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep having these things where i make this BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH
> 
> and then somebody else interrupts the battle after the guy says it
> 
> algol is called the demon star
> 
> hahha get it????
> 
> sledge's mask splits at the middle so he can fit his horns
> 
> remember that golden daft punk guy? yeah he looks like that
> 
> rip daft punk btw, great guys


	14. sansational dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conductor has a dream about the past. Sledge and Stars accidently set the wrong coordinates for the Snowdin Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please brain let me take a break
> 
> aaaagargargaerar
> 
> on another note, sorry about the end dialogue, it was lazily written.
> 
> but i had the dream scene written out at a passable quality (probably), so there's that.
> 
> enjoy

Cabbie stood with his pals at the beach, watching the sun lower beneath the horizon as the waves crashed onto the sand. The lightless black night was washing over the red-orange sky as everybody began packing up their things to leave.  
  
Most of them were busy picking up trash, and packing up everything they had brought along. Smokes unplugged the generator powering most of their things and was busy hauling it back towards the taxi. Oddly enough, his mask was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Wait… what did he mean by mask? Ah, no matter.  
  
He grabbed a camera from under the backseat and set it on a portal tripod stand, and placed it facing the ocean. The other 8 skeletons scrambled to finish up throwing away the trash, hurriedly gathering up into a group. The other two that were invited from the AU they stayed in simply looked from a distance with smiles.

Cabbie set a timer for 15 seconds and clicked the switch on the camera, sliding into a crouching position with the rest of the gang as the waves passed between their slippers (or shoes).  
  
_“say socks!”_  
  
Everybody smiled wider as the camera’s timer shut off.  
  
With a bright flash, the camera took the picture. He ran to grab the photo before it printed itself out. What came out was a picture of them all as the sun was sinking below the horizon.  
  
Cabbie walked up to Smokes and the rest of the gang with the photo. He passed out permanent markers and let them pass it around, writing their signatures on the back in classic Sans handwriting.  
  
Now that he thought about it, he thought Smokes was missing something. Cabbie walked up to the other skeleton, who had been oddly silent since they started cleaning up. He was probably just busy, right?  
  
Smokes turned to him with an out-of-place look of recognition and melancholy. For some reason, he was fumbling with his trenchcoat, as if it wasn’t familiar to him. He also scratched at the scar that went from his left eyesocket to his left horn.  
  
Cabbie always wondered why he had the horns of a ram, anyways. Just another question for later, right?  
  
“heya. how’s it going, pal?”  
  
Smokes didn’t say anything, staring off into the distance at the sun while it slowly went down, overtaken by the night sky.  
  
“...well, whatever, i guess. by the way, where’s that sledgehammer you always carry around?”  
  
The other skeleton’s head practically snapped to where Cabbie was, staring at him with a look of shock and fear. He took a step back, as did Cabbie. The gang looked at them with curiosity…  
  
Suddenly, the world began to crumble around them.  
  
Buildings collapsed into grey dust, and those still alive on the streets fell to the ground, meeting the same fate as everything around them.  
  
The other skeletons looked in horror as the ground disintegrated into a black tar-like substance that engulfed them, turning their body into a monochrome husk, unresponsive to the cries of Cabbie or Smokes as the world was brought back to zero.  
  
Cabbie dropped to the ground, on his knees with a look of shock, anger, and disbelief. Smokes only looked away with a look of inevitability as he began walking away from Cabbie. The other skeleton got up to run after him, desperate for an answer.  
  
“hey! wh-what’s going on, dude? smokes?”  
  
He didn’t spare him a second glance, and continued walking away. His trenchcoat collapsed into dust, wearing a grey sweater vest with a white undershirt, and similarly grey trousers.  
  
“c’mon buddy, answer me! you can’t simply walk away from me, pal…”  
  
Cabbie’s coat slowly went gray, replaced by a navy blue fabric that extended into a long, official-looking greatcoat with a hip flask in one of the pockets, and a golden badge. His shorts stretched and faded down to newly manifested leather shoes, before being recolored with the same navy blue as his new coat. 

He hadn’t noticed it, but the golden-blue flames in his left eyesocket was replaced by grey sparks, and finally, a grey blaze of flames.  
  
“wait…”  
  
The Conductor looked down at his skeletal hands, opening and closing them as if he was in an unfamiliar body. The other skeleton (wait, who has he again…?) turned to him as a sledgehammer appeared in his left hand.  
  
“who are you…?”  
  
At the same time, a dark blue, cylindrical cap appeared on the Conductor’s head, displaying the front of the Snowdin Express on a golden medallion that was pinned to the top of it. A metallic, silver helmet began materializing on the other skeleton’s head, covering up his face, and eventually his entire skull, save for the horns.  
  
“...a-and…”  
  
The Conductor put his hands to his face. Grey flames weaved through his left hand as he started shaking, before dropping to the ground.  
  
The other skeleton could only stare at him. The lights in his helmet were unresponsive.  
  
_“who am i?”_  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The Conductor shot up from the couch in a cold sweat as grey flames poured from his left eyesocket before quickly dissipating. After realizing he had used his coat as a blanket, he grabbed it and put it back on, along with his hat. He sat up and buried his face in his hands before blinking rapidly at Cabbie’s diary.  
  
“i… i think there’s something that’s gonna happen.”  
  
He got up from the couch and into the kitchen. Neither Sledge or Dusty were there, so he helped himself to a bottle of ketchup from the fridge, pouring it into the hip flask as he prepared to start the work week.  
  
The Conductor opened the door and left for work, barely prepared for the day and still reeling from shock.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Stars stared at the timeline reader with Sledge, the latter telling him a long and winding story about what happened to Cabbie, or the Conductor, at least for now.  
  
“so, uhhh… you’re telling me that this guy named the conductor…”  
  
Sledge nodded as he checked random gauges on the side of the timeline reader. Most of them were filled with magic.  
  
“...is actually cabbie’s second identity, and he’s lost his memories.”  
  
Sledge’s mask flickered before showing the words “CRYSTAL CLEAR”.  
  
“...ok. so now you wanna help him get his memories back, right?”  
  
The other skeleton nodded again, albeit more annoyed. He sat on one of the desks and sifted through Cabbie’s old things, like letters, books, and other objects he kept. Stars took a closer look at the timeline reader’s screen, and tapped a button, sending a dropdown list that covered the screen.  
  
He scrolled around before selecting one that seemed to look… cool.  
  
When Sledge saw Stars press ENTER after turning around, the rapid-fire lights his mask flashed could be seen as shock and panic. He leaped out of his chair and tried to reverse the action, but it was no use.  
  
They looked out the window to see a portal of golden flames, leading to the Void. Stars glanced at Sledge with a slightly embarrassed expression.  
  
“uh… oops?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people all over the world (on this train)  
> join in (ride the train)  
> start a love train, love train (ride the train, y'all)  
> people all over the world (come on)  
> join hands (you can ride or stand, yeah)  
> start a love train, love train (makin' love)  
> people all over the world ('round the world, y'all)  
> join hands (come on)  
> start a love train, love train  
> people all over the world  
> join hands  
> start a love train, love train  
> people all over the world  
> join hands  
> start a love train, love train  
> people all over the world  
> join hands  
> start a love train  
> love train


	15. Hometown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Snowdin Express arrives and is temporarily stranded in a forest, next to a road leading to a rural town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates are gonna slow down a bit
> 
> summer vacation ends today

Needless to say, Sledge was not amused with Stars. He had sent the entire train to a universe neither of them had heard of. To both of them, Deltarune sounded like it was a game-changer (literally) for the multiverse. No “Tale” or “Under” in either syllable, title related to the symbol of Monsters…   
  
Basically, it was a big deal, likely to many of the other multiversal entities, weird overpowered Sans, and what not. Sledge dragged Stars up to the window to see the new universe, except he saw something… unique.  
  
They were not in the Underground, nor were they in another location resembling it.  
  
They were on the surface, in a forest clearing that seemed to be in the middle of Autumn. Red, orange, and golden leaves were piled on the ground, some even already on the train. Stars smiled wider at the sight, still showing an appreciation for Earth’s nature despite 250 years on the Surface.  
  
Sledge checked the timeline reader once more, clicking the so-called “stats for nerds” as it was labeled. A warning symbol was next to one of the statistics, which seemed to log how much magic the Snowdin Express absorbed. There didn’t seem to be any specific measurements, but he could tell from the warning that it was absorbing less magic.  
  
He guessed that it would take a little longer for them to leave, if they were lucky.  
  
Maybe it was a world without Monsters, but rather a completely different, magicless species?  
  
When he theorized about it with Stars, both of them agreed that it was unlikely, and/or unfathomable for a universe that was part of the Undertale multiverse.  
  
Perhaps it was a separate story, changed so drastically that it was unrecognizable from the original? Sledge didn’t want to stand around and ask questions, though.  
  
He dragged Stars out of the Engine, and towards the receiver car so that they could follow the Conductor.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The Conductor rifled through his coat, trying to search for his phone. A ketchup bottle… a web carefully spun by a dog… wait…  
  
Found it.  
  
He pulled out his phone and dialed the Doctor’s number, standing outside of the receiver car while staring at an autumn forest, glancing at falling leaves as they fell on the ground, among dozens of others. After what he guessed to be about four rings, the Doctor picked up, talking in her usual monotone voice.  
  
 _“Uh, who is this?”_  
  
The Conductor kicked at leaves while he was speaking. Though he seemed bored, he was actually quite eager to explore.  
  
“hi, doc, this is the conductor. called up to ask you something.”  
  
The Doctor groaned out loud, disrupting the sound of rustling leaves. While she was moping about, having to do something else for him (hey, he’ll pay her back sometime for the ketchup, right?), the Conductor saw what seemed to be a fresh, maintained road. In the distance was a tall brick wall, and what seemed to be a metal gate, presumably to a closed-off neighborhood.  
  
After a long pause, Alphys kept talking.  
  
“...what do you want, Conductor?”  
  
The Conductor chuckled as he started walking down the road towards the gate, noting the freshly paved road and maintained sidewalks. He wondered if the Monsters in this universe had struck a good deal with humans when they appeared. At least, he certainly hoped so. He tried distracting himself from the thought of such a thing, continuing to speak with the Doctor on the phone as a golden leaf fell on his hat.  
  
“i, uhh, think we’ve landed in some uncharted territory, if you will.”  
  
As he put the phone on speaker mode, he could hear the Doctor get up from a chair, presumably to look out of a window towards the forest.  
  
“What do you mean unchar-” The footsteps stopped. “...oh. I see what you mean.”  
  
The Conductor nodded to himself as he got closer to the gate, able to read out the words “HOMETOWN”. Almost as if Asgore lived there, huh? Perhaps that joke is closer to the truth than he thought.  
  
“yeah. called up because you’re probably the person with the most connection for miles on the train, so i thought you could get some people to map it out, just in case.”  
  
“Alright then. I’ll just have some of the Futuretale people to hook up some drones, and we’ll be good as gold. Anything else?”  
  
The Conductor took a quick glance around him, noting that the train had started on the Surface. For the Snowdin Express, that almost never happened, unless there were more… drastic changes or events.   
  
He tried summoning a blaster, which materialized in slow-motion in front of him, each shard of bone piecing together one by one, until two white lights appeared in the blaster’s eyesockets. He grimaced, now knowing how scarce the background magic around him truly was.  
  
“just summoned a bit of magic using the stuff around here, and it’s _real_ slow.” The blaster attempted to fire, but only threw up a few white clouds of smoke, making an audible cough as it disappeared with a look of disappointment in its eyes. “we might be stuck here for a little while longer than on schedule, just a heads-up.”  
  
“R-really? Alright then, thank you. I’ll see you at the checkup next week, okay?”  
  
As if the tables had turned, he groaned, and she chuckled. The Conductor could hear louder footsteps as the Doctor began hurriedly jogging to the PA system.  
  
“right. later, doc.”  
  
“Later!”  
  
The phone clicked off as the Conductor reached the gate, which was decorated with gold patterns and signs. There seemed to be sharp metal spikes on every bit of the wall, each carefully grinded down so that it was safe enough, presumably for children.  
  
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. The Conductor whipped his head around, but only saw Sledge, Dusty, and another, familiar-looking skeleton, all of them jogging (for the first time in their lives for two of them) towards the gate, same as him.   
  
He thought back to the photo while staring at them while they got closer, but only passed it off as a coincidence. It would be weird if he suddenly asked another Sans “hey, i think you’re one of my long lost friends from two and a half centuries ago.” They’d laugh it off, waiting for the punchline that would never come, and then awkwardly slink away when they realized you weren’t joking. His train of thought was interrupted when Dusty suddenly spoke with an excited energy in his voice.  
  
“hey! wait up, buddy!”  
  
The Conductor stopped as he was about to open the gate. Dusty seemed to be the same, though Sledge had somehow tied his sledgehammer to his shirt like a sword, seemingly unaffected by the shift in his center of gravity. The other guy had grey wisps of light hovering around his eyesocket, a commonplace thing for most of the Sanses here, save for Dusty.  
  
“huh. didn’t expect you all to be following me here. who’s this guy?” He looked at the Outertale Sans for a brief moment, who stepped forward to introduce himself, holding out a hand.  
  
“i’m… uh… stars. we’ll go with that for now.” He had only known him for a minute, but Stars was already suspicious, sweating as Sledge looked at him, presumably to glare at the other skeleton.   
  
Dusty seemed to sense the tension around him, and opened the gate himself, motioning for them to walk in. Every building they saw was well taken care of, and monsters stood all around, not taking notice of the doppelgangers.  
  
Maybe their situation wasn't as bad as they thought, huh?  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the... what, twelfth cliffhanger?
> 
> don't worry, i'll still be working on the fanfiction (probably screwing my grades in the process)
> 
> thanks, see you thursday or something like that

**Author's Note:**

> No scheduled releases, but chapters average on 4-5 days.


End file.
